Their Little World
by kitkatritrat
Summary: The story of Garrick Ollivander, destined to one day be THE Ollivander, the one we know so well. Or do we? One-shot. -Kit Kat


_July 31, 1930_

"What are you doing, Father?" asked the young Garrick Ollivander, looking over the older man's shoulder. Charles Ollivander was bent intently over his work, an ornately carved wand of yew.

"_This_," he replied, "is a very special wand of two. Each possesses a core of phoenix feather, each quite interesting. Yes, I cannot wait to meet the owners of these. I just finished the other."

Young Garrick's father held up both wands up, one in each hand. The dim light from the lamp slightly illuminated them, and the old-fashioned radio played faintly. Mr. Ollivander's tools lay across his work-desk. They were odd looking things, with metal tips and screws. An ornate silver box containing phoenix feathers lay to one side, and neatly tied bundle of unicorn tail hairs at the other.

One wand, the yew, was quite exquisite. It was pale white with a thick handle decorated with markings and swirls of sorts. The other was quite plain, almost completely unadorned except for the slight grooves that marked the handle . It was a warm chocolate color. Both wands had the polish of the newly-made.

Charles turned to face his son, setting down the wands.

"What happened to your face, Garrick?" He touched the bruise marking the young boy's forehead.

"Fell out of a tree," he answered, looking through his father's dusty round glasses into his pale blue eyes. Charles' brown hair was graying but his face was still young. He looked at his son with somewhat disbelief, shook his head, then laughed.

"Silly boy, here, let me fix that." He took the plainer wand in his wand again and touched the tip to his son's bruise. Without a word, it slowly faded. They smiled at each other, and for a moment, everything was right in their little world.

_August 1, 1937_

Sixteen year-old Garrick sat by himself on the swiveling stool at the counter of the brand-new Fortesque's Ice Cream Shoppe. Jazz music was wafting out of a jukebox in the corner, and it was raining cats and dogs outside. He looked over to a booth in the corner. Inside was a teen couple, laughing at some joke the boy had made. The boy in question was blonde and somewhat plain, but was a quite a bit bigger than skinny Garrick. He was sharply dressed in expensive wizard's robes and his dragon hide boots were newly shined. But Garrick wasn't paying any attention to the boy, but to the girl. She had glossy raven black hair tied up in a blood-red bow that matched her painted lips. Her name was Priscilla Crabbe, and Garrick was dumb enough to admit he fancied her, if only to his best friend.

The bell by the door jingled and a young lady ran in, trying to shield herself from the rain with her tan jacket. She plopped down next to Garrick by the counter.

"Hey, Ricky," she said enthusiastically, despite the fact she was dripping with water. She began trying to dry herself with her wand.

"Hey."

"What's got your wand in a knot?" she asked, and then caught an eyeful of the pair in the booth.

"Oh," she said, answering her own question, "so you heard about dumb and dumber over there."

"She's not _dumb, _Kellie…"

"Well your little crush on her is. Honestly, you must be completely thick to fancy Malfoy's girl. 'Sides, my mum always told me to never trust a girl wearing rouge"

Kellie finished drying herself, ending with her honey-colored hair, which she tossed defiantly over shoulder.

"Butterbeer, please?" she asked the man at the counter, "with ginger?"

"Right away, miss."

"She's not Malfoy's girl _yet_," Garrick insisted with a false hope.

Kellie pretend a very shocked expression, "Is that _jealousy _I hear? Not Garrick Ollivander, Mr. Humble-Son-of-a-Wandmaker. Not my fellow prestigious Ravenclaw Prefect!" She smiled and lightly bumped her shoulder against his.

"I'm allowed one vice, aren't I?" he asked, and smiled at her gentle teasing. He bumped her back. He was quite glad Malfoy and Priscilla couldn't hear them, they were too busy snogging now. Strangely, now that Kellie was here, it didn't bother him as much.

_ "_Why do you have to do that, Kellie?"

"What?"

"Wear Muggle clothes." He glanced somewhat disapprovingly at her white dress, printed with pink and red flowers.

"You got a problem with it, Ricky?" she asked jokingly.

"It's just you're probably the only witch in here not wearing robes."

"Then I'm probably the only witch in here with fashion sense."

Garrick rolled his eyes, "You're such a Muggle."

"Naw," Kellie said, "you're the Muggle." They both broke into laughter, which attracted a few glances from their fellow customers.

"To being ridiculous," Kellie proposed, raising her glass.

"And not caring one smidgen about it," he replied, mirroring her. There was a slight _clink_ as their bottles touched.

They continued to sit and joke around, being utmostly silly, until Garrick had completely forgotten about Malfoy and 'his girl'. In fact, the other couple had already left the shop and he never noticed.

"Mum's going to be expecting me for supper," he told her.

"Well," she asked, "may I walk you home?"

Garrick chuckled, "Isn't the guy supposed to walk the girl home?"

"When you're best friends, I don't think it really matters," she replied, with a twinkle in her eyes.

They both hopped off their stools, Kellie held out her arm for him and they walked out of the Ice Cream shop together into the pouring ran. They ran together as fast as they could down the wet cobbled street, getting completely soaked. Finally, they arrived at Ollivander's wand shop, which Garrick's family's apartment was placed above.

"See you later, Kells," Garrick hollered after her, as she half ran, half danced through the ran.

"See you later, Ricky!" she called back, her hair so wet it was a shade darker and plastered to her face in dreadlocks. Garrick ducked under the eave of his father's store as to not get any wetter than he already was (which wasn't really possibly) and watched his friend's kitten heels go click-clack on the pavement.

As soon as he she was out of sight, he ducked into Charles Ollivander's dry, cozy little shop and left a good-sized puddle on the floor.

"You're late for supper, son."

Mr. Ollivander was sitting at his desk, polishing some wands. Garrick watched his father's work-worn hands go up and down an ebony wand with an oiled cloth. Charles's graying hair was even grayer now, though it still had a bit of it's natural brown to it. His words were stern, but Garrick could see the smile in his father's eyes and he knew he was not truly in any trouble at all.

"Sorry, sir, I got caught up with-"

"Kellie." His father finished for him, and chortled to himself, "so how's it going with that Crabbe girl?"

"Oh, I doubt she knows I exist," he said nonchalantly.

"Maybe that's for the best," Charles replied wisely. Setting down his polishing rag, he turned his full attention to Garrick.

"You know, Garrick, sometimes I think you can be awfully thick."

Garrick was a bit taken aback by this, "Why is that, sir?"

The older man smiled, "Because sometimes you fail to realize what's right in front of your face."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"Let's just say if I had a choice between beautiful sweet girl who cared about me, and an okay-looking girl who didn't know I existed, I'd pick the first one."

Garrick had a good idea who his father was talking about, and thought Priscilla was much more than okay-looking, but for some unfathomable reason he decided to play it dumb,

"I don't know what you mean." Charles sighed.

"And maybe you never will, but I pray to God you do. Never mind that though. On another subject, I sold one of those wands today."

"Really, one of the twins?"

"Yeah."

"Which?"

"The yew, it chose a scary little kid. Bossy type, a for-sure Slytherin if I ever met one."

"A little first-year?_ Scary_?" Garrick scoffed.

"Don't be so sure," his father countered, "he had this air of superiority, and the look in his eyes, sort of like one of those kids you see in the Daily Prophet. You know, the ones that are dumb enough to try to steal from Gringotts and get caught. Except he didn't look guilty. Funny, though, I have to admit he was charming. Said his 'please's and 'thank-you's all nice. Still, I got this feeling."

Garrick was surprised, it took a lot to make his father feel nervous.

"What was his name?"

"He called himself Tom, Tom Riddle."

"What about the other one?"

"The other wand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Still up there in it's box. Why?"

"I don't know," the younger Ollivander replied, "for some reason I thought they'd always stay together, be connected, sort of. Like maybe they'd chose a pair of twins…"

Mr. Ollivander chuckled, "You too much of a romantic for a wand-maker, Garrick. Perhaps you should write novels. No, I'm just teasing you. But it will probably be another lifetime before the other wand picks out an owner. Who knows? Perhaps you'll be the one to sell it."

"I doubt that," Garrick answered.

"Well, you never know…Merlin's beard!" Charles' eyes jumped to the clock, "It's late! Your mother will have our rear ends if we keep her waiting any longer."

Garrick nodded in agreement and they both hurried for the door way nestled in the corner of the shop that led to the stairs that would take them up to the Ollivander's apartment.

**Yay! This is my first time writing with an OC, so tell me how I did. Especially with Kellie and Charles. **

**If you want to see exactly what I pictured Kellie and Priscilla to look like, check out my Polyvore page. The username is kitkatmalfoi.**

**This was written for the Emotions Competition. My emotion was jealousy.**

**I do not own Harry Potter and make no money off of this. It belongs to Ms. Rowling and Warner Brothers Inc.**

**-Kit Kat**


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